looking down at earth from space block one, tritan wondered if going off to live on the moon had been such a good idea.
"of course it's a good idea!" he had told his daughter, judy, at the time. "space is the future. and if i'm not a man of the future, i'm a man of the past." judy had been unimpressed, being convinced, at age eleven, that space was full of witches. "witchees ginna gesha, popop," she had gummed in future-slang that enriches a narrative. but popop hadn't listened, and now he was staring enviously at his former home the "lonely luna," as it was referred to in the inimitable space-jargon of his fellow lunans.
yes, it was a cold, hard binary-autumn for tritan, separated from his only family, imprisoned in low-gravity orbit by his atrophied muscles. tears wobbling in his eyelids, he turned away from the moon-view-port and shuffled into the chair in the middle of his spartan, one-room apartment. sighing, he fumbled through the first of many onanistic indulgences that would get him through the binary-day. it was a cold, hard life on the moon.
"of course it's a good idea!" he had told his daughter, judy, at the time. "space is the future. and if i'm not a man of the future, i'm a man of the past." judy had been unimpressed, being convinced, at age eleven, that space was full of witches. "witchees ginna gesha, popop," she had gummed in future-slang that enriches a narrative. but popop hadn't listened, and now he was staring enviously at his former home the "lonely luna," as it was referred to in the inimitable space-jargon of his fellow lunans.
yes, it was a cold, hard binary-autumn for tritan, separated from his only family, imprisoned in low-gravity orbit by his atrophied muscles. tears wobbling in his eyelids, he turned away from the moon-view-port and shuffled into the chair in the middle of his spartan, one-room apartment. sighing, he fumbled through the first of many onanistic indulgences that would get him through the binary-day. it was a cold, hard life on the moon.
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